The Embarrassing Treatment Plan

Lately I've been in a bad mood, so my friend suggests that I see a traditional medicine practitioner.

But I dare not do that, for I'm addicted to carnal pleasure. Rumors have it that a traditional medicine practitioner can easily tell what my addiction is.

Unfortunately, my body keeps going through changes I can't explain, so I can only head toward a clinic on my own.

As expected, the way the practitioner looks at me shifts instantly.

"You've been longing to get screwed out of your brains, right?"

He pins me on the desk before tugging off my damp panties…

My name was Evelyn Hartwell. I was a sophomore and known as the most beautiful woman in my department. Countless people had a crush on me.

Every time I went on a date, the man's touch left me restless with desire, yet none of them could satisfy me. Before I even felt anything, they pulled up their pants and fell asleep beside me, so I had to relieve myself with my own hands.

But that was nowhere near enough. My fingers were too small. If only there were two… or something larger.

The more I thought about it, the more flushed I became. Hiding under the covers, I climbed on top of my boyfriend. He pushed me away while half-asleep. "Sweetheart, I'm tired," he said.

After he finished speaking, he turned his back to me and fell into a deep sleep. I packed my things right away, broke up with him, and went home.

With no one left to satisfy my desires, I grew even more restless. The guys at school saw me as untouchable, so none of them dared to approach me directly.

My close friend, Riley Hayes, noticed my low mood and suggested I see a traditional medicine practitioner. "They're really accurate. They can even tell what you ate last night just by feeling your pulse."

I swallowed hard. If they could tell that I had been pleasuring myself every night…

"No, thanks," I said.

…

In the middle of the night, my chest felt tight and sensitive. No matter how fast I moved my hand, I still felt unsatisfied with the large silicone toy. On the screen nearby, the actors began another intense scene while I, still unfulfilled, could only finish in a rush.

After thinking it over, I pulled up the contact information for the traditional medicine practitioner Riley had recommended.

I carefully chose my words and sent him a message. "Hello, what time are you available tomorrow for an appointment?"

As I waited nervously, he replied almost immediately. "I'm available now. You can come over."

I checked the time. It was already 9:10 pm, which felt a little late.

Even though my thoughts were bold and heated, I had always been known as a gentle, well-behaved woman. Besides, the lights in my dorm went out at 10:00 pm. If I went now, I might not make it back in time.

I accidentally clicked on the practitioner's social media profile and saw a photo of his abs. Under the dim lighting, his skin looked firm. Although his face was hidden, his strong build, defined abs, and sharp V-line made it clear that he had an incredible physique.

I suddenly wondered if things would be different if he were my boyfriend. He looked capable; that part of him must be impressive.

I gulped. My empty core suddenly ached with longing.

I took a shower, and by the time I arrived at the traditional medicine clinic, it was already 9:30 pm. Only a couple of lights were on, and there was hardly anyone there.

Before I could speak, a young man wearing a mask walked out. "Are you Evelyn Hartwell?" he asked.

When I nodded, he rolled up the sleeves of his white coat and said, "Have a seat and take off your coat. I'll check you first."

Looking at the veins on his hands, I caught myself imagining how good it would feel to be held down by those hands. When I snapped back to reality, he was checking my condition. I quickly pushed the unrealistic fantasies out of my mind.

He glanced at me now and then. "Your energy is low, and your system seems strained. Do you stay up late often?"

I grew even more uneasy. Dampness spread underneath my skirt, and I couldn't stop my hand from rubbing against myself under the table. "I-I guess so."

He raised an eyebrow and pressed his hand against my arm. "Tell the truth."

I lowered my head, feeling extremely anxious. Yet the tension below only built, almost slipping out of control.

In a daze, I suddenly heard him say, "Slut."

Before I could react, he grabbed my hand. His sharp gaze swept over me, dark and unrestrained.

He said, "You've actually wanted me to do this for a long time, haven't you? You lying brat, did you think I couldn't tell? You pleasured yourself once before coming here, and now you still have the nerve to touch yourself in front of me?"